Tell Me Again
by ifithasapulse
Summary: "Bela Talbot. I knew from the moment you came crashing into my life that you were going to be one hell of a headache and I wasn't wrong for a single second." In which Bela almost destroys Dean's coffeemaker and Dean has an odd way of saying I love you.


"Oh, Christ," Bela snarled, smacking the coffee maker irritably.

"You're going to break it," Dean warned off-handedly, pausing at the entrance to the kitchen with a slight smirk directed at his girlfriend.

Said girlfriend merely shook the offending piece of machinery, a scowl marring her delicate features. "Where the hell do I put the water?"

Tiny smirk blooming into a full blown grin, Dean sidled up behind her, reaching around her to fix the perfectly competent coffeemaker. He was close enough to smell her skin, that cross between sweet, pure honey and frostier citrus.

"You just need to know which buttons to push to get her going," he murmured in her ear, easily maneuvering the NASA-designed coffeemaker.

She tipped her head back against him, silky tendrils pressing damply against his bare chest, and simultaneously giving him a great view down the front of her navy silk robe. Judging by the glint in her dark eyes, it was no accident, but she danced out of his grasp, coffee cup in hand, when he made to pull her closer.

Perched on the edge of the breakfast island, Bela grinned at him, flipping her wet hair over her shoulder. "Well, get the coffee going, stud muffin," she smirked. "Don't you know _just _which buttons to push to get her going?"

_This woman_, he thought to himself, trying to be frustrated and failing spectacularly. _Just…this woman._

It was one of her first mornings spent at his place – she'd always had a penchant for leaving immediately as soon as the high wore off, rather than going straight into the sex-induced coma he did. Seeing her curled up on his breakfast island, fresh out of his shower in nothing more than a thin silk robe, looking so utterly, gorgeously part of his life, he thought he could definitely get used to waking up to this every morning for…well. For the rest of his life, frankly.

He was giving her that look, he realized as her smirk broadened. That look that everyone told him made it clear he was absolutely, irrefutably, desperately in love with her.

Something that Dean supposed he had known for quite a while, although he'd only just told her last night.

"Tell me – " Bela cut herself off abruptly, a flush staining her cheeks. He watched in fascination at the rare embarrassment, the awkwardness he simply didn't associate with one of the most nonchalant, pulled-together women he'd ever known.

"Tell you what?"

She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. After a moment's hesitation, her eyes lifted, meeting his tentatively. "Say it again?"

He couldn't help the wide grin spreading across his face anymore than he could the blossoming warmth in his chest.

"Bela Talbot. I knew from the moment you came crashing into my life that you were going to be one hell of a headache and I wasn't wrong for a single second."

"You never are," she muttered snarkily.

Dean shot her a look. "You are the most singularly stubborn, sarcastic, impossible woman I have ever met. And the bravest. And the most generous. And the smartest, funniest, sexiest, most incredibly goddamn stubborn piece of work, because that bears repeating. But so does this: I love you so much that it scares the hell out of me. Scared of what you might do to me, or what I might do to you. Scared of how I'd do anything for you. And scared I won't ever be able to tell you enough, or show you, and that you'll never understand just how much."

She was trying really hard to keep from being that idiotically lovesick moron she'd always sworn she'd never be, but God, he was killing her.

Bela stared at him for a long moment, the flush still fading from her cheeks. "I think I'm starting to," she said.

Then, never breaking eye contact, Bela slowly loosened the belt of her robe. A wicked smile lit up her face as she purred, the edges of the robe just barely clinging to her shoulders, "But why don't you just come over here and really _show _me?"

Dean's lips were on hers and his fingers were threaded through her hair before the robe had hit the floor.

**A/N: Hello, lovelies! I've been struggling with squeezing writing into a hectic life as always, but for the past few months I've had an especially elusive muse. Please excuse my lack of discipline. This is dedicated to Charmita, my bae. 3**

**Thanks for reading and please review, it would mean a lot with this flighty inspiration. :)**


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